The Read Princess Diaries ~**~FINISHED~**~
by cherryredchucks
Summary: Michael finds and reads Mia's diary/journal. M&M fluff, please R&R my first TPD fic
1. Chapter One

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Princess Diaries. If I owned Robert Schwartzman, I would do unthinkable things.  
  
"Lilly, are you absolutely positive that you didn't see a composition notebook with my name on it anywhere?" Breathe in, breathe out. Now is not a good time to freak out. Remember your yoga breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Oh screw that, NEED HELP NOW!  
  
"Mia, you're being a nut case. No, for the thousandth time, I have not seen your notebook. What is wrong with you anyway?" Oh nothing, except that I lost my journal and in it are all my deep-harbored feelings and secrets, which I never ever want anyone to know. That's all.  
  
"Nothing. I just need to find that notebook."  
  
"Mia, if you're freaking out because you lost your notes, stop it. You can buy a new notebook on the way home and you can copy my notes. It's that simple." Oh Lilly. Reasonable, logical, dependable Lilly. You would think that things could be that simple. But since I am Mia Thermopolis, nothing is simple in my life.  
  
"They weren't notes Lilly." Please don't press it. Please don't press it.  
  
"Well then what were they? Mia, stop freaking out. And stop throwing your books in the hall. You've gone through your locker four times now."  
  
"Nothing" Please don't let her see I'm blushing.  
  
"Mia, it's not nothing. You're turning red. Now what was it?" Uh oh. Lilly's giving me the "I Know You're Not Telling Me Something And I'm Not Afraid To Beat It Out Of You" look. She gives me that look a lot these days.  
  
"It was just a kind of.journal." Why is it that I can't keep a secret?  
  
"YOU keep a diary? You fill it with deep thoughts and emotions which you have obviously not been sharing with me, your best friend?" Why is it that everything I say around Lilly comes out wrong?  
  
"It's not a diary. It's a journal. And you have a right to privacy, so I should too." Ha, got her on that one.  
  
"Granted. Although, I must say I'm proud of you Mia. You're finally dealing with your problems and your emotions. Maybe this means you'll be more assertive and aggressive instead of passive and timorous." Lilly has a way of making even the simplest things complex.  
  
"Thanks, I think. Now help me look."  
  
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On the back of all brochures for high school they should have a surgeon's general posting. "WARNING: High school may leave you open for the following: encounters with bitchy cheerleaders, embarrassing moments, back- stabbing friends, awkward pauses and falling for you little sister's best friend." Although, with my luck, that last one only applies to me. When did it happen? When did I fall for Mia? It wasn't the makeover. I thought she was beautiful before that. Although the first time I saw her, I thought my heart had exploded in my chest. I couldn't talk for like two minutes. So when did it happen? I mean, seniors don't just fall for freshman out of the blue. But I can't think of a time when I wasn't in love with her. What's this? "Property of Mia Thermopolis" Well, as her Algebra tutor, I have every right to open it to see if it's math related. So I can return it to her quickly. Right? Well, maybe not, but I'm opening it anyway. Oh my god.  
  
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"Mia, sit down. You're making Pavlov so nervous he's going to pee on the carpet. And I'm not cleaning it up." Right, Sit down. Stop worrying about the possibility of someone reading that notebook. Right, just be calm.  
  
"I can't Lilly, what if someone reads my journal?"  
  
"No one will read your diary. And even if they do, what's the big deal? I mean, if it's nothing but rants about Lana, who cares? Everyone knows we loathe her, so it wouldn't be a shock."  
  
"It's not about Lana."  
  
"Well then what IS it about Mia?" It's all about your brother! It's all about your hot, sweet, often shirtless brother. The guy who wanders around your house, plays the guitar and occupies my every dream! That's what it's about!!!! But you don't know this because if I told you, you would tell me that I actually view him as more of a brother and that this is all some psychological trauma placed on me by my father.  
  
"Just stuff about being a princess. I mean, there have been quite a few changes. Stuff that I needed to sort out."  
  
"And why couldn't you do this with me?" Lilly is looking all pouty, like a really sad pug. I sigh in frustration. No matter what I do with Lilly, it's usually wrong.  
  
"Because, you're often out with Boris or you're busy. Besides, it's stuff I have to handle on my own." It's not a total lie, is it? Oh god, imagine if I was like Pinnochio. My nose would be as long as the state of California by now.  
  
"Well, stop being such a nutcase and sit down. We need to get this started." Every Friday night, Lilly and I have a sleepover and watch movies. This weekend we decided we would pay tribute to the eighties by watching Molly Ringwald movies. We decided on 16 Candles, Pretty In Pink, and the Breakfast Club. Tonight, we were going to resolve the debate over who was hotter in the Breakfast Club, Judd Nelson or Emilio Estevez. So I sit on the bed and lie back, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere in this city of thousands of people, someone is reading my diary. 


	2. Chapter Two

November 23 - Loft  
  
I think that I may cry. I am serious. It was so awful. I was walking by Michael on my way to Algebra and Lana "I have no real life goals" Weinberger stuck out her perfect tan leg and tripped me. I went flying and all my books went everywhere. I must have looked absolutely lovely as I was trying to gather up all my papers and not burst into tears. Meanwhile, Lana and the rest of her little friends (and everything seems little when you're freakishly tall like me) are cracking up at my misfortune. I can only imagine that Michael must have seen me in my natural beauty and fell in love with me right there. NOT. More like this is the reason why he and I could never get together. I mean let's evaluate me, shall we? I'm seriously tall, I have no breasts and when Paolo was straightening out my hair, I honestly thought he would find some poor squirrel that had been trapped in there for the past two weeks. Or perhaps some mailman that had gotten sucked in. But now, thanks to grandmere (who's motto is NOT "it's what's on the inside that counts") and Paolo (get a freakin' normal name, buddy) I now look like an A-crowd wannabe (a/n think Anne Hathaway in the movie after the make-over). And yet, even though I think I look pretty good, none of this has helped me get Michael.  
  
Poor Mia. I don't know what those girls have got against her. They're probably jealous. And why wouldn't they be? Mia is absolutely perfect. Well almost perfect. You'd think that she would have figured out that I like her by now. I mean, I walk around shirtless, I tutor her in Algebra, I take any excuse to touch her, I'm pathetic really. The next thing on my list is to get a tattoo that says "I LOVE YOU MIA". Then maybe she'd get a clue.  
  
November 24 - Limo en route to Plaza  
  
Michael tutored me again today. It's really hard to focus on the quadratic formula when you've seen the guy who's tutoring you shirtless (the guy, not you. Me shirtless would probably scare the crap out of Michael). I keep getting mental images of him shirtless or us kissing. I think he noticed that I was a bit spaced out.  
  
MM: Mia? Mia are you listening to me?  
  
Me: What? Oh yeah, of course.  
  
MM: Then why didn't you answer me?  
  
Me: Okay, okay, so I wasn't focusing.  
  
MM: What were you thinking about?  
  
You, but I can't say that. Quick! Think of something good to say!  
  
Me: Germany  
  
D'oh! Bad answer!!!  
  
MM: (totally confused-Ii can't blame him) Germany?  
  
Me: Um, yeah. I have to do a report on it. Anyway, back to algebra.  
  
Does anyone else realize that I am the biggest dork on the face of this universe? GERMANY? GERMANY? This is not how a princess acts. This is nowhere near how a princess would act. But then again, I'm not exactly your average princess. I'm the no breasted, freakishly tall, in love with her best friend's older brother type.  
  
So that's what she was thinking about. Me? She's thinking about me? Wow. Maybe I'm the one who needs to get a clue. Okay, I swear. That's the last time I'm going to read that journal. I read it three times already. I'm going to return it to Mia. Really. I am. I can hear her laughing from Lilly's room. The two of them and their movie marathons. No sense in interrupting their movie marathon with me returning the journal, right? Right? Well I'm not going to. I'll just join them and try not to smile too much at the fact that MIA LIKES ME!!!! 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I love this story and I'm really getting into it. It starts after Book 3 without the letters and the romantic ending. And Mia looks like the Mia from the movie, I like that better than the walking Q-Tip idea.  
  
Lilly is in the bathroom while we take a short break between movies. I decided that now would be an excellent time to go get a snack. While passing through the hall, I turned up the thermostat. I know it was a stupid thing to do, but maybe if the apartment is hot enough, Michael would go shirtless again. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? Maya took the night off to visit with a sick friend and the Drs. Moscovitz are both pulling double shift and won't be back home until god knows when. So that leaves me alone in the apartment with Michael (hee hee) and Lilly. Oh god, he is shirtless already. He's in the kitchen. Please don't let him see my outfit.  
  
"Hey Thermopolis. Nice PJ's." Damn it. I must look like a dork. The scrubs were a gift from Lilly after I mentioned how comfy they looked when we visited her grandfather while he was in the hospital. She decided to be a temporary kleptomaniac and steal two fresh pairs for me. But I was right, they are very comfortable and paired with this tank top I feel very nice. Unfortunately, I must look like a freak.  
  
"Uh, thanks." I can feel my cheeks burning. Why must he do this to me??  
  
"How's the marathon going?" He pours me a glass of milk and slides it my way. I reach for the bag of Milano cookies and put it between us.  
  
"Pretty good. Lilly refuses to see my point of view when I say that Molly Ringwald should have stayed with Jon Cryer in 'Pretty In Pink'." He smiles that smile of his and shakes his head. Oh god, I really do sound like a moron. What senior wants to hear the merits of Duckie?  
  
"My dear sweet open-minded sister." He takes a cookie from the bag the same time my hand is in it. I think that my hair must be standing up on end. I mean, every time the boy touches me, it feels like a thousand volts of electricity just shot through my body. But it's the nice kind of electrocuted feeling.  
  
"Um yeah. Do you want to join us?" Where the hell did THAT burst of assertion come from?? I need to figure out where it came from so I can gather it every time Grandmere tries to get me to stop wearing my combat boots (I WILL NOT STOP!). He looks just as surprised as I am. But he looks kind of happy surprised. He nods (because his mouth is full of chocolate Milano cookies) and follows me back to Lilly's room. Lilly looks shocked to find her brother in her room (or alive for that matter. The boy never leaves his room and Lilly and I occasionally wonder if he's dead). He settles in close to me (MUST CONTAIN EXCITEMENT) and we start the movie. I hope I can concentrate.  
  
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When Lilly and Mia watch a movie, it's like the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Between the two of them I found myself laughing at the movie more than I ever have before. Obviously, Lilly had her own sarcastic comment, but even Mia got into the act by making a few comments and joining in with a few of Lilly's songs. Mia started blushing like crazy when she absent-mindedly said that Michael Anthony Hall reminded her of Kenny in this movie. I don't know why Mia is so shy. It's like she believes that what she has to say has no value, when in reality, I would listen to her talk for forever. And I'm not just saying that because I'm in love with her. And once or twice, I decided to take the initiative and get over my fear of rejection (BECAUSE SHE LOVES ME) and make some way to touch her. I would pretend like I couldn't see the movie and shift closer to her, or if she was in front of me I would put my hands on her shoulders and move her. Her skin is so cool and soft beneath my hands. She is so gorgeous. Lilly shot me a few weird looks but I ignored them. Sisters. Bah!  
  
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Oh god! I think I may kill Lilly. Onvce the movie was over, she said that we should play truth or dare. I tried to say that Michael was probably tired or busy and didn't want to deal with immature games But he said he wasn't busy and that this game was pretty fun. So here we are about to play and Lilly is going first. She has this evil look in her eyes. This is not good.  
  
"Mia, truth or dare?"  
  
"Um, truth?" I figure that's the safer of the two. She could dare me to drop another vegetable out the window or worse, to kiss Michael. Not that I'd mind kissing him or anything, I just would rather not have my first game with him be under the pretense of some retarded game.  
  
"What's your worst fear?" Easy, Michael marrying Lana. Whoops. Can't say that.  
  
"That Lana has my journal right now and is preparing to read it over the P.A. system during tomorrow's announcements." Michael looks at me strangely but Lilly doesn't seem all that satisfied. She just sighs and reminds me that it's my turn.  
  
"Okay, um Michael, truth or dare."  
  
"Truth." Oh the possibilities! Not that I'd ever get up the guts to ask any of the questions I have swimming in my head but if I could...  
  
"Have you ever French kissed a girl?" Stupid question.  
  
"Nope." Simple enough. What I wouldn't give to be his first.  
  
"Lilly, truth or dare."  
  
"Apparently, it's up to me to make this game interesting. I'll take dare."  
  
'I dare you to go to the kitchen and get some more snacks. I'm starved!" Lilly gets mad at the lame dare and throws a pillow at Michael. He reminds her that she can't back down from a dare and she grudgingly leaves the room to get snacks, slamming the door on the way out. Oh god I'm all alone with Michael!!  
  
"C'mon! I've got something for you!" Michael leans in and whispers to me. His warm breath on my ear makes my heart explode in my chest. What can he have to show me? Oh god, we're going into his bedroom! Me and Michael alone in his bedroom? What the hell is going on? 


	4. Chapter Four

A/N: Here's Chapter4. I know it's really quick and short, but I just wanted to establish this. Next chapter will be fun.  
  
November 27 Loft  
  
Well, as nice as it is to have my dia-journal back, I think that I may have just done the dumbest thing on the face of this earth. So how did I screw things up this time? Well I'll tell you. After we played truth or dare, Michael invited me into his room. He said he had something to give me and if I was the type of person who was gorgeous and actually had a chest, I would think he was trying to seduce me, but seeing as I'm.well I'm not the seducing type, I just figured he had a new song to play for me. But when we got into the room he went over to his desk and pulled out my journal. I was so completely freaked out because [a] I got my journal back and so Lana couldn't have it and [b] MICHAEL had it and well...he's the main focus of the stupid thing. However, I somehow managed to master the art of forming complete sentences so we had a bit of a convo.  
  
Me: You found my notebook (way to state the obvious Mia!)  
  
MM: Um...yeah. You should keep better track of your journal. (Now this is where things went kind of weird)  
  
Me: Uh yeah I.hey wait, how did you know this is my journal. It's just a notebook and it doesn't say journal or anything on the front.  
  
MM: ummmm  
  
Me: Did you read my journal? (I'm getting kind of mad here)  
  
MM: ummmm  
  
Me: YOU READ MY DIARY?! (okay, so I know it's journal, but I was kind of freaking out here.)  
  
Then I did the unthinkable. While he was trying to apologize to me I ran out of the room. I knocked into Lilly, who was wandering around the apartment trying to figure out where we had gone to with a bowl of chips. She took one look at my face, which was growing more and more red by the second and tried to ask me what was wrong. However, that mastery of the English language went right out the window. I just made a little noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a scream, grabbed my stuff and ran out the door. I called Lars from the courtesy phone in the lobby and took off for home. Mom and Mr. Gianini were kind of surprised to see me but I just said that I was feeling sick and then I proceeded to lock myself in my bedroom with Fat Louie. Mom has been trying to get me to open the door because the phone is for me but I have a feeling I know who's calling and I really don't want to talk to him. I mean, how could he? How could he read my very personal thoughts? I think I may be sick. 


	5. Chapter Five

A/N: If I get any more reviews telling me how evil and cruel I am, I will finish this fic by having Michael fall in love with Grandmere and have them get married. I'm not evil, it's just good writing. And besides, if this sucks so much, then why do you read it? ;-)  
  
My life now officially sucks. I know that this probably means nothing coming from a teenager. I mean, the media makes it sound like when we get a zit, that we feel like the world is coming to an end. And I have to admit, once or twice after I've said something stupid, I've thought it was. But this problem goes far beyond acne and/or general discomfiture. This goes on to the category known as "UTTER AND COMPLETE STUPIDITY". Seriously, I think that if there was a Screw-Up award, I would be the top pick. I mean, first I read my little sister's best friend's (and my crush's) diary and then I continue to make the horrendous mistake of letting it slip that I did so. And then when I called to apologize, her mother informed me that she was locked in her room and not accepting calls. Not that I can blame her. I mean, I did read the diary, which was full of personal thoughts about me (ME!!!). But the worst part is that now I can't tell her that I really am sorry and that I really do care about her. I'll be lucky if she even talks to me tomorrow. And Lilly? Here's what our last conversation was like:  
  
Lilly: WHY DID YOU MAKE MIA CRY?  
  
Me: How do you know I made her cry?  
  
Lilly: HELLO? You were the last person she was with and then next time I see her, she's crying and running out of here.  
  
Me: I just made a mistake and said something I shouldn't have. I'm sorry.  
  
Lilly: Sorry doesn't cut it Michael.  
  
Me: Well it's the best I can do right now.  
  
Lilly just shoots me this death glare then storms off and slams the door to her room, which I found out when I tried to talk to her, was locked. What is it with girls and locking themselves in their bedrooms?? And all in all, I have only five words to describe tonight: I AM A FUCKING IDIOT.  
  
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November 28  
  
I hate Michael. I hate Michael. I hate Michael. I love Michael. I love Michael. DAMN IT! I can't even be properly mad at the boy. Okay, focus Mia, focus. You hate Michael because he read your dia-journal! JOURNAL! Anyway, this is not a time for you to get all gooey over Michael just because he's sweet and smart and funny and has an amazing chest and...STOP IT!! I went online to check my e-mail and he started talking to me. It was so awful.  
  
CracKing: Mia?  
  
I didn't respond. Serves him right for invading my privacy.  
  
CracKing: Mia, say something.  
  
FtLouie: What is there to say?  
  
Okay, so I did respond. I mean, it's MICHAEL! Even if I am mad at him, my heart still beats a little faster when he IM's me.  
  
CracKing: I'm really sorry.  
  
FtLouie: You read my journal.  
  
I had to delete diary again. IT IS NOT A DIARY! Girls like Lana keep diaries, girls who are ditzy and write in pink ink and have little feather fluffs at the end of all their pens write in diaries. Girls like me, who actually care about the world we live in, write in journals.  
  
CracKing: I know and I'm really sorry!  
  
FtLouie: It was personal but you read it anyway.  
  
CracKing: I'm really really sorry Mia. Is there any way I can make it up to you?  
  
FtLouie: Yes, you can leave me alone.  
  
Why is it that my assertion only comes and goes? And this time, I wish it had never come. Damn my big mouth- er.hand.no wait. I don't know what I mean anymore. This is what happens when you're in love with a guy that you're trying to hate. 


	6. Chapter Six

A/n: Glad to see that the reviews are much more tame now. I feel better already. Now on to chapter six.  
  
November 29 School  
  
Oh god, the limo ride today was SO awful. I wanted to scream out loud, but of course, I couldn't. Michael ended up being late so he couldn't take the subway to school and had to grab the limo with Lilly and me (which was uncomfortable enough). I was just sitting there, trying to avoid his eyes, when suddenly Lilly starts asking me about the other night.  
  
LM: Why did you leave so early?  
  
Me: Ummmm  
  
LM: Why were you crying?  
  
Me: Ummmm  
  
LM: Did you get your period? (she asked this very loudly.)  
  
Me: LILLY!!!!  
  
LM: What?  
  
Me: It was definitely not my (whisper) period. I just was feeling really sick. (I said this while glaring at Michael, who seemed to turn red and became very interested in the air conditioner).  
  
Thank god Lilly just left it at that, because she began on her latest crusade, which is a social balance makeover for Albert Einstein High School. She says that it is unfair that since we are not one of the jocks or the cheerleaders or the beautiful people (who don't really seem to do anything except be beautiful), we are forced into obscurity. She says that she is going to try and revolutionize the way that we spend our high school years. I just rolled my eyes and went back to reading Tina's latest romance novel she lent me. It's called "Six Months" and it's about a girl who has terminal cancer and has only six months to live, in which time, she must choose between two boys who are madly in love with her. Tina said that in the end, her cancer goes away and she chooses the cuter one because he stayed with her through all her treatments. Michael, however, kept trying to get me to look in to his eyes, which I steadfastly ignored. It's going to take a lot more than him being shirtless and smiling at me before I'm fine with him.  
  
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Damn it, Mia has been ignoring me all day. I tried talking to her during G&T but she just put on her earphones and pretended she couldn't hear me. Lilly is still talking about her radical make-over to Boris, who has temporarily stopped playing his violin, leaving me enough time to hide it on the top shelf of the supply closet. If he can't find it, maybe he'll stop. Geez, I really screwed things up with Mia. What was I thinking when I read her diary? Hey, wait a second.I have an idea to fix all of this. Now where is my pen? 


	7. Chapter Seven

December 4 Lilly's apartment  
  
Okay, I am here against my will. You would seriously think that having a 400-pound Slavic man following your every move would prevent you from being kidnapped, but in this case, when it's your best friend's older brother who's your abductor, Lars has absolutely no problem. In fact, I have a feeling that Lars and Michael may have planned this. I was walking out of Biology (since I have that last period) and I had taken a little while so the halls were empty. I'm walking along and Lars is no where to be found (I thought he was off flirting with the new substitute teacher, Miss Stone) when suddenly, a hand is placed over my mouth and I'm yanked into the janitor's closet. It was kind of dark and I was about to scream when my kidnapper pulled down on the light cord and I could see it was Michael!! Well I have to admit I was very surprised, but I had also noticed that he had yet to take his hand off of my mouth. He made me promise not to say anything at all and to trust him completely, and me being the lovesick teenager I am, I completely forgot how mad I was at him and I just followed him. He grabbed my hand and we ran down the hallway and we rode the subway back to the Moscovitz apartment in silence. Now he's making me wait out in the hall before I'm allowed into his room. This boy has been using white out without proper ventilation.  
  
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I really hope that Lars didn't forget about my plan. I really don' t feel like being beaten up by Mia's 400 pound, gun bearing bodyguard. I have a feeling that I wouldn't look so good in my graduation pictures if I had a black eye and three broken ribs. This subway seems to be taking really long. Now, if all goes according to my plan, I should be able to apologize to Mia and let her know about my non-platonic feelings for her. That's if this thing goes according to plan. Something which rarely happens in the Moscovitz household.  
  
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December 4th Later, still at Lilly's apartment  
  
Okay, when I was seven years old, I thought that the epitome of fun was Christmas morning. Mom would always make us have a white Christmas, even if it meant putting shaving cream on the windowsills so it looked like snow. When I was seven years old, my mother promised me the best Christmas ever. She woke me up at five o'clock in the morning because it had started snowing. She dressed me up warmly then sat with me on the fire escape and drank hot cocoa with me as we watched the sunrise with the snow falling all around us. Then she took me inside, made me pancakes and we opened present together. After presents, she took me ice-skating, to the movies and finished it off with renting movies and eating Chinese food with me as we watched Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing. I was convinced that life could not get any better. That is, until one hour and twenty-six minutes ago. That was when Michael Moscovitz decided to make things up to me, in the sweetest way possible. Let me start from where I left off.  
  
I was waiting out in the hall and finally, he let me into his room and he had me sit on the bed. Then he handed me a composition notebook. I looked at him strangely and asked him what was going on. He just told me to open it. So I did, and it was just one page of writing. Here's what it said:  
  
Dear Journal, I really screwed up this time. I did something really stupid and hurt the girl I'm in love with. I read Mia's journal. I didn't mean to, I had just found it lying in the hall and I wondered what it was so I opened it. The crime wouldn't be so bad if I had just realized it was her diary and shut it right then, but I didn't. Instead I read it. All of it. And you know what? It was amazing. Mia is amazing. She's so filled with passion and intelligence and zest for life that it made me love her even more. And the absolutely best part was that she seemed to have some of that passion for me. She wrote about me, Michael Moscovitz in her diary. Me, the boy who has secretly been in love with her for eight years. Not Josh (well maybe a little Josh), not Kenny, not even Justin Timberlake, but me. And you have no idea how special that made me feel. To know that someone as incredible as Mia cares about me. But then I made the awful mistake of letting her know that I had read it, and I hurt her. I saw the pain in her eyes and the utter loathe in her voice and I felt like someone had walked over my heart in golf shoes. So I made up my mind right there to get her back. And I don't know if I have. But I pray to whatever force is up there that put her on this earth, that she does.  
  
Then we had a nice little conversation:  
  
Me: What's this?  
  
MM: (grinning broadly) It's my journal.  
  
Me: You don't keep a journal.  
  
MM: (still grinning) I know. I wrote one.  
  
Me: Why?  
  
MM: Because I read your diary.  
  
Me: It's a journal.  
  
MM: Whatever. The point is that I read your diary and you've read mine.  
  
Me: Did you mean this?  
  
MM: Yes.  
  
Me: Everything?  
  
MM: Yes Mia, now will you shut up so I can kiss you?  
  
And so then I did. And he did. And it was incredible. It was absolutely amazing. I'm sitting on his bed and he sits down beside me and he cups my face in his hands and he kissed me. His lips were really soft and he tasted like mint. How do I know? Because he FRENCHED ME! That's right, Michael Moscovitz, boy whom I have been in love with for the past eight years, French kissed me. It was so electrifying that I honestly felt like my combat boots were melting. And my hair was getting all staticky. But that is well worth it because MICHAEL MOSCOVITZ LOVES ME!! 


End file.
